


Cops Liaising in Toyland

by Arwyn



Series: Cops in Toyland [3]
Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Second Time, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 15:23:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4611798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arwyn/pseuds/Arwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Holy sh--! No, he could hang on, this was about pride, and he wasn’t about to come without his cock in something -- and Fraser had a great idea there, Fraser always had great ideas, Fraser had a great ass, yeah, that’d do, or Fraser’s mouth, his hand, his thighs, hell, Ray’d rub himself off against Fraser’s </em>knee<em> at this point.</em></p><p>
  <em>If only Fraser would move his knee a little closer.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cops Liaising in Toyland

**Author's Note:**

> Beta and blame, as always, belong to HereEatThisKitten. 
> 
> Thanks also to CarolineB for the plot bunny. It's not exactly what you said you wanted, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.

Ray wasn’t going to come.

He wasn’t going to come ‘cause that wasn’t a thing someone who wasn’t fifteen anymore did without something on his cock (or his cock in something, yeah). The fact that there was a “finely crafted intimate stimulator” inside him, that he’d never leaked so much in his life, that Fraser was fucking him with this, this _thing_ that _Fraser had used on himself_ , even that Fraser’s voice was deep, and breathy, and saying… those things, and had been for half an hour, and that if he didn’t come soon he was going to die -- well, hell of a situation, that was all.

“With the right device, I could hold your testicles away from your body, separate from your shaft, and fill you, just… like… this, all at once. Now granted, there wouldn’t be much room for me in there at that point, but perhaps I could ride you like that.”

 _Holy sh--!_ No, he could hang on, this was about pride, and he wasn’t about to come without his cock in something -- and Fraser had a great idea there, Fraser always had great ideas, Fraser had a great ass, yeah, that’d do, or Fraser’s mouth, his hand, his thighs, hell, Ray’d rub himself off against Fraser’s _knee_ at this point.

If only Fraser would move his knee a little closer.

“There are other things we could use to stimulate you, of course. I once saw a pair of silicone feet, which could be slicked and slipped over an erection. Nearly any body part imaginable comes in silicone, really.”

“Don’t… not… _fuck!_ ”

“What was that, Ray?”

He didn’t stop. The bastard wasn’t stopping, was just looking at Ray with that evil, innocent face, hand continually pumping the wand inside him.

“ _Asshole_. God. Fake! Don’t want… fake.”

It was hard to focus on any thought other than “yes Fraser God yes please fuck me touch me let me come fuck yes” for long, yeah, but it’s not like he stopped thinking. It’s just that the words weren’t making it out of his mouth. It was like that big bulb in his ass was blocking them -- no, like he couldn’t feel it and talk about it at once. He felt too much, there was no room left, nothing to spare.

Nothing he could do to stop it.

(He didn’t really want to.)

“You seem to be having a bit of trouble staying still. I could help with that. There are all kinds of accessories for restraining movement. Rubber, leather, chains. Of course, give me a length of rope and I can do it all, far more economically. Tie you spread for me, arms, ah, arms overhead, I think. Stretch you out, show off your ribs. The feel of the rope against your wrists, your legs -- perhaps wind a length across your nipples. Hmm!”

Ray could kick him for that _hmm_ , if he could coordinate his legs well enough to. His leg jerked, anyway, while his cock jumped up and down like it was waving for attention, weeping ‘cause it kept hearing all those things and didn’t have ‘em.

“We discussed alligator-style nipple clamps yesterday, of course, both vibrating and otherwise. But there are so many other tools for achieving similar results, if with dissimilar aesthetics. There are cups, for instance, which provide a sensation remarkably like, well, if I were to suck your nipples.”

“Fuck--Suck! Suck something. Suck me, please, Fraser, fuck, please!”

And then there was breath on him, almost, so close to what he wanted.

“Or there are pumps, generally used for preparation, of course, for situations which you, ah,” and Ray could feel Fraser’s eyes on his cock, except for how his cock couldn’t feel anything, and that was the problem, “you have no apparent difficulties with. But they can, of course, be utilized for stimulation as well. With sufficient lubrication and careful manipulation, the effects are quite… remarkable.”

“God yeah, yeah, yeah, but um, or, or, uh, or you could, just, use your -- oh _fuck_ \-- mouth.”

“I was under the impression I was using my mouth.”

Fraser’s words were like a lifeline, bringing him back from la-la-never-gonna-come crazy-land to the shock of being here with _Fraser_ , his dry-witted sarcastic asshole of a partner. Fraser plays the straight man, Ray bitches back at him, night follows day, yeah, he could do this, he could.

“On _me_ , you fucking... sadistic... freak.”

Hot, hot, hotter, Fraser’s mouth was so close to Ray’s cock he’d’ve sworn he could feel lips brush against him, and then --

“Ow!” Ow ow motherfucker -- the bite flared out from his thigh, and his whole groin spasmed, and it hurt, it fucking hurt, but oh god, he wanted it again.

Fraser wasn’t going to give it to him, though, because, as he’d just reminded Ray, he was an asshole, and a sadist, and Ray hadn’t known he’d been so right about that.

“Ah, but my mouth can be in only one place at a time. Now, if I had a clutch of clothespins --”

“A _what_?”

“A clutch. Focus, please, Ray.”

Oh he was gonna focus. He was gonna focus his boot to Fraser’s head -- just as soon as he was wearing boots again, and Fraser’s head wasn’t so almost where he needed it.

“As I was saying, if I had a clutch of clothespins, I could place a line of bites--”

 _Oh god oh god_.

“-- all along your inner thigh, pinching a little more each time --”

 _Oh god oh god oh fuck_.

“-- and still have my mouth free to do whatever --”

And here Ray felt Fraser’s nose prod his balls, breath stirring the hairs below, and _oh fuck_.

“--I… wanted.”

His tongue, his tongue, was that his fucking tongue, on Ray’s-- _oh god, oh_ \--

“Fuck, _fuck!_ I can’t--” Ray could feel himself losing it for real, losing his control (what control, Fraser was in control, Fraser had him tied up and pinched and sucked and fucked and the only thing really there was the metal in his ass, and Fraser was about to _lick it_ , he’d left control in the dust miles back). Ray was losing his grip, losing his come, but he didn’t want to, he couldn’t, not without touch, he was losing touch, this was unbearable, he felt --

Fraser’s hand on his belly, solid and still against Ray’s gasps.

“Breathe. Feel my hand. Let your breath raise it up, and slow, slow, down. That’s it. That’s it. You’re doing fine. You’re here. Feel me.”

Ray sniffled, and realized the sweat on his face wasn’t just sweat (and the sweat on his belly wasn’t either, but it hadn’t been for a while).

“Are you better?” Fraser was slowly rubbing him now (rubbing through all that slick and sweat, and no, gotta breathe, just feel the weight of that hand, rising, falling).

“Yeah, yeah, I’m -- yeah. Good.”

“Because we could --”

“No! Nuh uh. Don’t even. I’m good, keep, uh, keep going.”

“All right.”

And it had to just be Ray’s imagination, ‘cause Fraser never sounded impressed with him like that outside of a case, if he’d done something clever. Something Fraser was willing to admit was clever. But Fraser sat back, and moved his hand away (rubbed it, so wet, on Ray’s thigh, squeezing and petting, brushing the growing bruise from the bite), and Ray cursed as he felt Fraser start up again, the thing in, out, the words pouring over him.

“I’ve long admired your legs, Ray. And the boots you tend to wear. I think perhaps you’ve noticed my boots, too.”

Ray closed his eyes, and let Fraser continue to take him apart.

*****

Ray couldn’t imagine feeling more full than he did right now. Full of words, full of images Fraser kept painting for him, full, so full with that wicked curved piece of metal. He couldn’t tell how much of it was inside him, but every time he felt there was no deeper it could possibly go, Fraser found someplace new, expanded him a bit more, until there was nothing left, nothing unplumbed.

Or so he’d thought.

“You’re so full, Ray. With this much metal in your ass, there’s hardly room for anything else.”

Holy shit, holy shit that was Fraser’s finger rubbing around the dildo inside him, trying to dip inside next to it, and Ray was going to die, he was just going to be _split_ \-- but no, Fraser backed off, and the slick press of him, pressing Ray between his finger and the metal cock inside him, was just so much, so much more than Ray thought he could stand, so much more than he knew what to do with.

“Of course, your anus is hardly your only hole.”

The ceiling swirled as Fraser’s finger traced up, up over his taint, over the soft line in his tight balls, and so lightly, so fucking, terribly lightly over and up his cock, which jerked in response. How Fraser kept the same, torturous, barely-there pressure when Ray’s cock was jumping like anything he couldn’t figure out. Mountie reflexes he guessed, and then wait, what--

“ _What the fuck?_ ”

He shot up onto his elbows, and just for a second the sudden movement pressed him harder against that teasing finger (hah! gotcha, didn’t anticipate that), but that didn’t matter, not when Fraser’d said…

“You got to be kidding.”

“I assure you no, Ray. They’re called sounds, originally designed for medical use -- rather like a much, much thinner version of this --” and without stopping the steady in-and-out, somehow Fraser made the thing in his ass more, reminding Ray of the bulb at its end, and something like that in his cock? Fraser must be joking, he’d start laughing any minute, he had to. “-- except straighter, of course. I could fuck you in two holes at once.”

“No, no, nuh uh, not gonna happen, you fucking could not."

Fraser laughed. Fraser was chuckling at him, and fucking him, and Ray was going to kill him, and that was fine, Ray was cool with that, Ray was so much cooler with that than with what Fraser’d said. Murder, no problem. _That_ … no.

He let himself flop back, so his hand was freer to flip Fraser off. Fraser earned himself a second death by huffing another half-laugh.

“Well, it’s not for everyone.”

“How… how is that… for anyone? Wait, izzat for you? Do you…?”

“Ah. I’ve… no. I’ve never had particular interest in that specific activity, no.”

“Then how did you… I mean.... god, can you just. hang on, stop for a sec.”

Ray was shocked when Fraser obliged. Ack, okay, mostly obliged. He stopped the in and out, but he seemed to be playing with the bulb that still stuck outside of Ray, and Ray could feel every twitch, every hum made by Fraser’s fingerprints against it, he was so sensitive at this point. Did Fraser even know -- but he did, Fraser knew what this was like, he must know, he’d done this to _himself_ , and that thought alone wrung another throb from him, and his cock bobbed hard away from his belly.

“God, Fraser, how -- how do you know all this?”

“Hmm.” The hand that wasn’t subtly driving Ray insane caressed up his thigh, against his ribs. Ray thought for a second Fraser would go for the obvious (maybe he wanted him to go for the obvious, his nipple was hard as a diamond and right there), but no, it just slowly, firmly smoothed back down again. “You’ll have to be more specific, Ray. I know many things about… this.” He squeezed Ray’s hip, a brief pause before resuming the warm path he was tracing.

“Fuck off. The toys, the stuff, all that. How do you, how do you know about noises?”

“Sounds?”

“Yeah, them. And the, the, that.” Fraser tapped the dildo, as if to confirm he knew what Ray meant, definitely confirming he was a _bastard_. “And the things you said, fuck, Fraser I’ve been in this town my whole life, I worked Vice, I don’t know about half a this stuff. But here you are, and I gotta know, how do you know it all? I mean. You live, uh. You live in your office. You eat with me most nights in the week. When you’d get the time to, y’know, study up?”

“Ah. Well, you seem to be under the impression I’ve had, uh, personal experience with each of the things I’ve described.”

Fraser’s fingers were tracing the hairs on his belly, smoothing down, then ruffling up, and Ray could feel each hair sit up and beg, and he bent his knee a bit more to muss Fraser’s own leg hairs with his foot, and it was just hair, it was just feet and belly and leg, and it shouldn’t feel so good, not with his cock so hard, the dildo inside him so hard, but it did, because it was Fraser.

Fraser, who’d said something important a minute ago.

“You haven’t used ‘em?”

“Well,” Fraser cleared his throat, shifted in a way that didn’t seem to move any closer to Ray but left him pressed up against Ray’s foot just a bit more. “I haven’t used them all, no.”

Ray’s foot tapped a question, and Fraser answered. “It’s remarkable what you can learn from the right books, Ray. You ought to try it sometime.”

“Hah, yeah, sure, it’s books I’m just dying to try right now, uh huh.”

He guessed Fraser figured sarcasm meant he’d paused long enough, and Ray jolted as the dildo slid so deep inside him, sliding in and in and in, and out, fuck, it was so long, Ray’d been so close to coming for so long, he’d almost forgotten.

He wouldn’t let himself forget the evidence he was following, though.

“Fu-u-u-u-u-uck… God that’s good, Fraser, so good. You like this? You like this, course you do, you like all these things though, wanna try, wanna try ‘em?”

Fraser leaned over to press a kiss to the hairs he’d been playing with, and Ray throbbed against that broad, smooth chest, shit, if he could rub just a little _more_.

Between kisses, Fraser murmured, “I want _you_ , Ray.”

“Yeah, but… the toys…”

“Are just tools. They’re hardly necessary.”

“Necessary. Right. Yeah, not. Uh. They’re not? They feel, that keep doing that ngh, Fraser,” Ray didn’t whimper, even though anyone would with the loss of that chest, those kisses, even as Fraser kept pumping inside him, shorter, harder thrusts now. “‘Cause, uh. It feels. Shit. It feels kinda necessary here, Fraser.”

“It appears I’m remiss in your education.”

He barely had time to wonder what Fraser’d meant when Fraser pulled the wand out, tossed it to the side. Ray was half worried Fraser was going to slide inside him now, half frantic with trying to pull him up so he would -- but Fraser just climbed on top of him, yes, all that flesh, Ray’s hands scrambled over that back, the wings of his shoulders, down to his ass, slick, soft, and he squeezed, pulled Fraser hard against him. Yes, that, that was perfect, Fraser was a genius, and Ray thrust and writhed and wrapped his wobbling legs around Fraser’s as best he could, pulled him closer, tighter, more.

Fraser’s mouth was hot against his throat, breath hot against his ear.

“Frottage. This… this is frottage. The process of making... making art. From a rubbing. You are so _beautiful_.”

Every part of Ray’s body throbbed, his voice caught, he saw nothing but flashes for a second.

“Ray, Ray, Ray. Come for me. Please. Now. Please.”

Fraser was thrusting so hard against him, so fast, almost right, almost, he needed, needed…

“F-- Ffff-- Fraser. Fuck. Ben. I can’t. I need. I. Something.”

And then Fraser bit him, hard, bit his neck at his shoulder and didn’t let go, didn’t stop, and yes, yes, there, that was, that was, yes, and he was coming, coming, wave and wave and crashing wave and he pulled Ben to him, held him still, flung one arm up to grab Ben’s hair. Fraser took the hint, let go of the bruised skin of his neck, let himself be stilled, held himself hard and quivering and, fuck!, throbbing next to Ray’s softening flesh.

“Ray. Ray.”

Fraser’s soft lips pressed hard against his face, and Ray did his best to kiss back, mouth open and breath heaving and muscles like jelly.

“Ray.”

A hint of a question now, and Ray answered by relaxing his hand digging into Fraser’s ass, let his hips roll against Fraser’s again, and Fraser, yeah, they got the nonverbal thing down here too, because he just moaned and went at it and Ray felt thrill after thrill go through him again, orgasm’s aftershocks while Ben chased his own. Ray could hear Fraser’s panting now, the catches in his voice, and yes, finally, a moan as he thrust one last time, shuddered, and stilled.

*****

Ray came to when he realized he was rubbing Fraser’s leg with his own. He took a minute to catalogue his systems -- the light scruff of Fraser’s leg hair, his ass sore and, weird!, gushy, Fraser heavy and smooth and heaving on top of him, his arms just coordinated enough to stutter from Fraser’s shoulders to his ass and back. New, so much of this was new, and good, so good and right it almost already felt familiar, and some small part of him that never learned to shut up started asking when he could get more of it.

His lungs wondered when they could get more air.

“Come on, Fraser.”

“Jus’ did.”

Ray’s laughter rapidly turned to wheezing, and Fraser finally pushed himself up on his elbows and smiled down at Ray. It was just the oxygen he finally could get enough of that made everything seem brighter, right?

(It wasn’t, and he knew it wasn’t, and he was pretty sure Fraser knew that he knew it. He was pretty sure Fraser knew everything at this point, and he’d worry about that as soon as he stopped feeling like he could leap buildings as long as those blue eyes crinkled at him like that.)

“Better, Ray?”

“Yeah. Yeah, breathing’s good. I’m good. Um. We’re good, right?”

Fraser’s brows rose a fraction. “I’d say we were very good. I mean,” Fraser rolled and Ray shifted to let him, shifted more to not lose contact, so when they settled Ray was half on top of him, and the arm he was lying on curled around him. “We are, er, good?”

“Oh yeah. I mean. We’re gonna have a talk later about how much of that came from personal knowledge, and you’re gonna help me out with um, the card catalogue and things --”

“Certainly, Ray.”

“-- and maybe my letter to Santa needs to get wrapped in plain brown paper this year, but, yeah. Yeah. We’re good. We’re… we’re really good. I think. We’re us. And that’s. Uh. Good.”

“Good.”

“Good.”

Ray was surrounded by Fraser, his smell, his arm, his warmth, his come, wrapped in Fraser better than any blanket, and he was drifting off, achy and relaxed and good.

“Ray?”

His eyes snapped open. “Yeah?”

“It’s nearly 3am.”

He shut his eyes again.

“S’why we’re going to sleep now, Fraser.”

“Here?”

“Nah. We’re in a hammock, see. Feel it swaying? Smell the salt air?”

“I smell something salty, yes.”

“So shhh. Sleep.”

A pause, and Ray could hear that big brain trying to find the trick, the catch. _Bet he always took apart his toys to figure out how they worked. When he got any. Did he get any?_ He’d get some soon, that’s for sure.

Ray could tell when Fraser realized that this gift wasn’t going to break, no matter how often he took it apart. He felt Fraser shift, turning toward him just a bit, felt that sticky-hot hand settle on his hip. He felt Fraser’s soft _good night_ resonate through his body, and he felt himself fall, and he slept.


End file.
